Holding my bowels, sketch pencils and recognizing Gateway Talents

As I meet new artist I find we have one thing in common and if we don’t it’s only because they don’t know we have it in common yet. I hate generalizations as much as the next person but it is becoming exceedingly apparent to me that artists are artistic in general. I had a pencil and a sketch pad in my hand from the moment I could voluntarily hold my bowels. I’ve always had an artist’s heart however I distinctly remember people complimenting my work as a child and thinking, well, all I can really do is sketch. Just a few short years into MY THIRTIES brought me the courage I needed to try other things like painting, photography, playing the guitar and finally writing. They say nicotine is the gateway drug to the hard stuff. For me, a charcoal sketch pencil was my gateway to writing. I’m not saying I’m done with all the other “hobbies” (Oooo I hate that word. They are so much more than hobbies! Especially when they become lucrative.) I still do all of them regularly and they are a huge part of my life but I would have never found one without the other.

Perhaps you are an artist with a single talent, one thing you’re really good at, but you’ve somehow conned yourself into believing that is the only thing you can do.

Could I please oh, please give you some advice you didn’t ask for? Here are some things you can do to recognize where your Gateway Talents are taking you. But we’re going to have to start from the very beginning and what better way to preface this than with some adorable photos of a newborn I just snapped on a photo shoot a few weeks ago?

NUMORO UNO: You need to be comfortable in the saddle.

You are never ever, I mean never as in the discovery of the Fountain of Youth never or VHS tapes making a comeback never or gas being 99 cents a gallon ever again never, going to move out of your artistic comfort zone until you are comfortable calling yourself an artist. No matter your craft, albeit wood sculpting, poetry, mosaic or oil painting, if you can’t admit you’re an artist you will never move forward in that respect or any other.

Number Two…What’s that? You need a second to take in the grossly adorable gaucho on the painted pony. I KNOW! He is so cute. This picture was both fun and terrifying to take. Don’t worry. Mom is crouched behind the horse supporting him.

Okay, Number Two: Brace yourself for the ride.

Once you can admit you’re an artist don’t assume you will suddenly be endowed with skin as thick as armadillo’s hide and the confidence of a honey badger. (Wildly audacious beasts by the way. You must read up on them.) In the beginning, your heart will be crushed by rejection and equally bruised when people don’t get your work but there will be that moment where you’re like, “Oh my Mayonnaise! I don’t do this for them. I do it for me. I do it for the ones who DO get it.” And that moment, my friend, will be like the relief you feel after having a baby. Don’t know what that feels like? Well, it’s a little like having an 18 wheeler removed off of your lungs and bladder. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you can take a deep breath but now you have this new creation in your hands. That’s what that moment feels like.

Then there’s graduation. Granted it’s only from Kindergarten because as an artist you’re never going to arrive. There’s a reason for that. We won’t let ourselves. There will always be something more amazing we can create and we can’t rest until we try it.

What about you? Are you at Numoro Uno? Can you admit that you are an artist yet? Or perhaps you are moving on to the next Gateway Talent. What is it? Pray tell. Can’t wait to hear from you.

Yes, Margie, you’re right … these things are so much more than hobbies! They are, for me … sanity! It’s too bad others (and even friends sometimes!) can’t see it that way. I think that’s one of the things that makes it so hard to just, as Andrew said (above), “admit it in public.” Great post 🙂

I agree. These things are as much a part of us as our arms and legs. And I love that you say for you it is SANITY because I am confident I’d be a junkie on the street somewhere without Jesus and creative outlets!